Complicating Reality
by TheUnHolySmirk
Summary: Harry Potter is a magician. Oh... and also a wizard, I guess. A collection of England's reactions to an unconventionally magical Harry.
1. A Trick on the Train

Reality seems so simple. We just open our eyes and there it is. But that doesn't mean it is simple.

-Teller

Harry Potter was a magician.

Oh, and also a wizard. A large and kind soul has whisked him away from his old life working for the Dursleys into a new one full of wonder and mystery. He told Harry that the impossible was not only possible, but common, and that both Harry and him could play with reality as if it were a sandbox. The black haired boy didn't believe the man at first. His size could be explained by strange genetics or even lifts in his shoes. Maybe his coat was hiding some wire mesh that messed with the scaling to make him appear larger than normal. Bending Vernon's shotgun was harder to explain, but that could be chalked up to cheap steel and the right leverage, possibly with the use of wrist braces and springs.

Then a tail grew out of his cousin's behind.

Maybe there was some substance this whole magic thing after all.

Well, mostly. The girl sitting in front of him was currently talking his ear off, proving that having magic didn't differentiate this girl from other excitable bookish children that he found easily in primary, all huddled up with their text and ready to lecture at the drop of a hat. He couldn't be sure if the questions she had were meant to be rhetorical, or if she was simply refusing to pause and breathe. Harry checked his watch. It had been five minutes since he introduced himself. Huh, it had felt longer.

"-I'm Hermione Granger by the way, and you're Harry Potter, of course."

"Hey would you like to see some magic?" Harry took full advantage of her pause to try and distract her.

"Oh," Hermione paused, shocked at someone actually talking back to her. "Of course! I've tried a few simple spells myself and had pretty good results so far."

Harry smiled at her. "That's rather impressive. You're already ahead of most, or so I've heard. Let's see if I measure up."

Harry made the practiced motion of opening his empty hand before reaching over to her ear. Thanks to Hermione's rather large hair, he was able to slowly pull out a stick. "Oh look, a wand!" He grinned.

"Hey, that's mine!" Hermione huffed and made a swipe at the wand. It was gone. "What?"

"Oh, I guess it had a shelf life."

Hermione looked ready to scream. "Give that back, right now! I will go to a prefect!"

"But I don't have it!" Harry opened his hands to show that they were both empty.

"Oh please you probably put it in your sleeve." Hermione reached over to grab his 'sleeve' when she realized that Harry didn't have sleeves. He was wearing a t-shirt. "Wha-?"

"Hey look, it's on your ear." Harry ignored her shriek in surprise. "It's alright," He placated her, "I make that mistake all the time with my pencils and pens. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

His lopsided grin was only met with angry muttering and a glare.

AN: Yes it's a new story. Chapters will be very short, so sorry, but I didn't want to focus on the plot so much. Idea came from when Fred(or George I can't remember) mentioned doing card tricks for a muggle girl.


	2. Illusion in the Alley

Harry liked Hagrid. He was nice if a bit dim, which was Harry's favourite type of audience. Magic is just as much about the proper audience as it is the right performance. People like Hagrid tended to be both willing to be amazed and easily fascinated. Simple, visual effects tended to work the best.

"Hey, Hagrid? Wanna see something impossible?" This was Harry's catchphrase, one with which he started every one of his shows. It was a simple question, with a flair of mystery, and it was one that he had adapted from his first magic book's dedication. _Reveal the Impossible_.

Hagrid smiled at him, the lines around his eyes crinkling and his beard twitching to and fro. "Why o' course Harry! Go ahead."

Harry raised his left hand, and predictably, the large, boisterous man's eyes followed. They never tracked Harry's hand slipping to his pocket for the item he had prepared a few moments ago. With the rock palmed in his right hand, Harry lifted it under his open left, producing the small seemingly from thin air.

"What do we have here?" he wondered out loud, smirking at Hagrid's horrified expression. "A shiny rock?"

Hagrid looked sick to the stomach. "Harry, yer not supposed tah have tha'! Perfesser Dumbledore will be furious! You need to give tha' here!"

Harry looked up into the giant's kind, if worried, eyes, smiling innocently. "But I don't have anything!" He opened up his hands to reveal, sure enough, that they held nothing but air.

Hagrid quickly went from worried and upset to panicked and astonished. "Harry, I need tha' stone! Perfesser Dumbledore was very clear!"

The green-eyed boy flawlessly threw on a look of confused ignorance, save for his eyes brimming with mischief and mirth. "You mean the package you have in your jacket pocket?

On instinct, Hagrid reached for the said pocket and felt a familiar lump. His eyebrows jumped into his hairline in disbelief. Harry could almost hear his thoughts of wonder and shock. "Wha'?"

Hagrid reached into his pocket, only to pull out a package wrapped in brown paper, the knots sealed with wax. The package had never been opened. "How did yah…?"

Harry ignored the man's look of amazement. "Come on! You said that we were getting a wand, right?"

* * *

I know that this one was even shorter, and I'm sorry, but that's just how it is. These interactions are completely in the moment. This is purely comedy, tho I may think about compiling all of the interactions from first year into a single chapter, so that the read time is decent for those with spotty internet. If you would prefer that, then you would have to wait until I finish all the interactions from first year.


	3. Flight of a Feather

"Okay, class. Does everyone have their feather? Now for those who have done the requested readings for today, what is the incantation for the simple levitation we will attempt together, today?"

Every head in the class, save for Hermione's, looked down, hoping and praying that they wouldn't be called on. Flitwick chuckled to himself, there was always one. "Yes, Ms. Granger?"

"The incantation for the basic levitation with limited motor function is ' _Wingardium Leviosa_ ', originated as simply ' _Leviosa_ ', though the original version was deemed unnecessary and useless due to the fact that it did no more than merely make things float, completely stationary. It was later decided by the Board of Wizardry to be a separate spell due to its uses in construction and interior-" Hermione said all this in a single breath before Flitwick cut her off.

"Thank you, Ms. Granger, but if you go any further I may be considered obsolete as a teacher, and have you hired in my place." Like most things, the diminutive professor said this with a kind smile, while the rest of the class looked heavily relieved.

"Proper pronunciation is vital to any form of spell-work, including charms. You don't want to end up like old Baruffio who misspoke and said an "s" rather than an "f" and promptly found himself trapped under the weight of a water buffalo. The wand movements must be exact, a swish across your target, followed by a flick towards it. These steps are necessary for almost all wizards, but some of you may advance enough to disregard the spoken words in your NEWTs, though I digress.

"Without proper guidance, your magic will not fully understand how it must act, and your chances of success in your endeavours will dwindle substantially. Now that all the boring bits are over with," Flitwick paused for the giggles that followed his statement, "We can beg- MR. POTTER?!"

The effect was immediate. Every head immediately turned and stared at Harry's desk, in the back of the class. Or more specifically, they were all staring at the feather that was flying at a controlled pace between his hands. Hands that very clearly held no wand.

"Bloody hell, Harry! How are you doing that?" The redheaded boy was nice enough if a bit small minded. Much like Hagrid was, actually.

"That's not possible!" Harry looked up at Hermione's rather shrill voice.

"It isn't?" Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm sure that teleportation, time travel, werewolves, vampires, potion making, transmutation and the ability to make anything float unaided, period, should also 'not be possible'. How you explain that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Magic."

Harry simply smiled and gestured with his hands at the feather resting innocently at his desk.

"Oh this is ridiculous," The bushy haired girl seethed and stalked over to Harry's desk. She snatched up the feather and waved it around. "That wasn't real magic! It probably has some sort of string on it that he's using to cheat."

She then spent the next minutes running her fingers against the bristles of the feather, trying to find a wire that continuously evaded her. Her face began to heat up. "It… it… _where is it_?" Her desperation quickly turned to rage at Harry's smug face.

" _What did you do?!_ "

Harry leaned back, holding his hands up in the universal " _I didn't do anything_ " sign. He calmly walked over to the slowly panicking girl. "You need to learn to lighten up a bit, Hermione, enjoy the confusion. A book telling you something is impossible shouldn't define your reality." He plucked the feather from her clenched fist, extracting it in one fell swoop. "All you need, Hermione," he spoke, softly stroking the spine of the feather, "Is a little _wonder._ " He presented his hands to the crowd, where the feather was hovering between his fingers before vanishing in a sudden burst of flame.

Hermione didn't look pleased. "You can't just _pretend_ to do magic with your tricks! This is a school, where we practice a defined discipline that was perfected over multiple years of study and practice. I don't know who you think you are—"

"Actually, Mr. Potter brings up an excellent point." Flitwick finally cut in again. "We rarely appreciate the wonders of magic, having grown up with it. Frankly, Ms. Granger, I'm surprised that you don't share the attitude of Mr. Potter here, seeing as you are muggleborn.

"And while I find your showing very impressive and enlightening, I would appreciate it if you could please perform the actual spell whilst in my class." His thin lips upturned toward the end. "You should come to my office sometime for some tea. I would love to see what you can do with your ability."

Harry was in full agreement with Flitwick until he mentioned the very last part. "Ability?" Flitwick didn't really think that-

"Why your affinity to wand-less magic, of course." Huh. Okay then, these next seven years were definitely going to be fun. Harry's grin only got bigger when he saw Hermione's head fall onto her wooden desk with a satisfying _thunk_.

* * *

I find myself not very fond of Hermione in many cases, though I'll try to avoid bashing her too much. Please let me know if it gets too much. I personally think I nailed it.


	4. Humorous Hypnosis

Ron Weasley didn't know what to think of Harry Potter.

On one hand, he was nice enough when you didn't bend his weird miniature sheets of parchment, and he was always willing to demonstrate fantastic magic, but he also refused to help anyone with their classwork.

It wasn't like he didn't have the skill, or that he was ignorant of how special his abilities were. Hell, the teachers couldn't stop praising him!

It was super selfish of him, and his excuses always were the same. "A magician never reveals his secrets." Yeah, right. Ron bet he could do what Harry did if only the jerk would tell him how.

"Oh please," a particularly strident voice interrupted Ron's musings. Oh, it was her. There was no confusion in how the preteen felt about her.

Hermione Granger was bossy, superimposing and overbearing. Ron got enough of that at home from his mother, as much as he enjoyed her culinary skill. Couldn't she realise that people didn't care about how old some gargoyle was or how long it has been since Hogwarts last hosted any exchange students? She was such a nerd.

"Hypnotism is absolute hogwash. The human mind is far too advanced to be drugged by some sounds made by another person. It's all televised and fake, nothing but showboating." The girl had her arms crossed, tapping her foot, skirting the edge of a huddle of students surrounding Harry and Neville.

"What about the compulsion charm?" a semi-familiar redhead chimed in, Ron wasn't a hundred percent sure of her name: Sammy or Susan or something.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's magic. It's different."

Harry seemed affronted. "And what I do isn't?" He defended, "Magic is all about perception. Making the bridge between what the brain perceives as possible and what the eyes see.

"For example, this is Neville." Harry gestured grandly at the chubby boy. "All of you know him, you know what he's like." A few chuckles littered the group. "Can you name someone as different from Neville as possible?"

"Draco Malfoy!" An unseen voice called out. This time everyone laughed, Ron included.

"Draco? Why not?"

"Alright," Harry turned toward Neville. "Listen to my voice. Follow my eyes. Track my motions. Relax, release your tensions, your stresses. Your anxieties, anxious of the angst, anchored to your ambidextrous ambient ambivalence. Resting your reality and reasoning, relaxed, maxed out and mulled into sleep."

The last word seemed to strike a chord of power through the common room. Ron balked as both Neville and Hermione slumped over. Wait, what?

The rest of the students stared transfixed on Neville. Completely ignorant to the slumbering bookworm behind them.

Harry's words took on an ethereal tone, calming and focused, thrumming with magic.

"You are prim, you are proper. You are the height of a pureblood heir. You are primed and pruned for greater things. You are peerless, all should be subservient to you and your family. You are secure in the sovereignty of your sacred patriarch. You are DRACO MALFOY!"

Neville and Hermione rose their heads in unison. Neville put on a smug face and turned his nose up. "Well of course I am, Scarhead. Don't sully my name with your halfblooded tongue. I've already written to Father about you and your poor choice of companions. I am willing to give you a second chance, the Malfoy family is well known for its charity, simply apologise and we can start over."

Everyone was gaping at Neville being so… not Neville.

Hannah Abbot was the first to start laughing. But before the wave could fully catch, a derisive snort interrupted her. Everyone turned to stare at Hermione Granger, an ugly sneer on her youthful countenance.

"Salazar, Longbottom, I didn't think you could get stupider. I'm Draco Malfoy. Don't taint my person by trying to better your squib self imitating me. When my father hears about this…"

Whatever "his" father would do sadly went unheard as everyone howled with laughter, Ron included.

Neville broke out into a wide grin, and bumped fists with the young hypnotist, smirking smugly.

Harry was alright in Ron's book

* * *

Computer got rebooted and the file for this story got deleted, so I've had to start again. I wasn't that far ahead though, so I think I'll be fine.


End file.
